


Seashell in a Bottle

by killugonwriter



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gonkillu - Freeform, Killugon - Freeform, M/M, Yaoi, killua's a merboy!!, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-05-04 22:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14603325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killugonwriter/pseuds/killugonwriter
Summary: Gon finds a lone scallop shell in a glass bottle. After falling asleep on the shore of a lagoon, he is visited by a beautiful boy- who just so happens to have a mermaid's tail.





	1. Chapter 1

To the east, the sea seems to stretch on forever. The whale’s tail of the island makes a long, curving sandspit that most of Whale Island’s fisherman refer to as the Fish Hook. Between the straight coast, and then the curve that could snag a fish’s lip, it’s easy to see why it’s dubbed that. The veteran fisherman on the docks proclaim it’s the best place to fish on the island— and Gon couldn’t agree more. In the early morning, the fish are greedy and the bobber of your line is rarely visible for long. For this reason, before the sun comes up, he usually rigs a fishnet trap with the large sea rocks that line the cove while the fish are active. 

Even though the water around here is shallow, schools of colorful fish often swim right off the sandspit— and watching them is one of Gon’s favorite things to do. When they move into deeper waters, he likes to follow them to the underwater reef that is close to the entrance of the cove: where the seafloor bowls out and the water is deep. The reef teems with fish of all sizes and colors that drift serenely through coral and anemone. Sadly, when Gon comes closer, their fins frill outwards and they dart away. He easily can spend a whole day exploring the reef. Recently, he has spent his visits looking for pearls in clamshells, in hopes of making a necklace for Mito’s birthday. Although, sometimes he  _ does _ get sidetracked... It’s mostly because of the beauty of the underwater world, and all the otherworldly colors that can rarely be found above the surface. 

He comes so often that some fish recognize him and have become his friends. They rub their bodies against his legs and arms as a way of saying hello when he swims by. A particular manta ray, one that he named “Kite,” often swoops by when it sees Gon, and twirls around him as if it’s dancing with joy. Gon never gets tired of the feeling he gets from this place. 

When the sun begins to sink, he checks the traps he set. With his pocket knife, he cuts one of the ropes, and with a fishmen’s perfectly orchestrated plan, the fishnet is triggered and all the trapped fish are snared. Gon wades into the pool, the water coming up to his waist, the seagrass tickling against his shins as he, with some effort against the still wriggling, live fish, thrusts the fishing net onto the beach. The fish slap their tails in protest against the sand. It seems like a fish supper is in order.

From the nearby tree line, Gon collects some wood and dry brush for a fire, and collects some large sea rocks to situate in a ring for the pit. As he works, Gon thinks about nothing in particular, and instead hums a light tune to himself. He doesn’t need to dwell on anything— this beach has a way of making outside problems meaningless for a time. It’s almost like another world here: one where negativity seemingly doesn’t exist. None of it matters right now, other than getting the fish cooked. In the nearby tide pool, he scales and guts the fish, leaving the guts he doesn’t want to be swept out to sea by the waves. Moments after, he sees the threatening fins of sharks cut through the water. Not that is surprised Gon, as he basically dished them free horderves. After using some of the matches that he always keeps in his pack, the fire, like the sharks, begins to gnaw on the dry wood. It hasn’t rained for a while, so all the kindling is dry and the fire grows until is large enough that the blaze is reflected in the ocean’s surface. The reds and oranges from Gon’s fire are caught in the reflections that dance on the water, joining the brilliant pinks from the sunset. As he stakes the fish’s flesh to border the fire, he tries to absorb it all. When the fish is finished cooking, he chews on the sweet flesh and watches the sunset end.

Quickly, another day turns to night time. The rolling waves act as a backup chorus to the crickets that chirp from beyond where the forest meets the beach. The only light that makes the beach visible to Gon is from the supermoon that the fisherman were talking excitedly about on the docks. There’s a lot you can talk about while waiting for a bite. Between assembling lures and weaving nets, talking about tonight’s phenomena filled in the gaps of silence. More visibility at night makes it possible to catch the larger fish that move up from the ocean’s depths at later hours— fish big enough to snap most lines. If one of these fish were caught, it would give any fisherman automatic bragging rights. However, Gon wasn’t interested in that right now; he had done plenty of fishing earlier and instead was in the mood to take a stroll around the beach.

Gon rubs his hands up and down on his bare arms, trying to warm them slightly against the bite of the ocean breeze. Beneath his toes, the sand is chilly: maybe he shouldn’t’ve put out his fire. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped now. Besides, the nip in the air feels good in his lungs. It’s refreshing, he tells himself. His stubborn thoughts alone makes him forget about his goosebumps. The night sky distracts him, too. It’s so clear that the starlight is captured in the water’s calmer surface. In the later hours, it becomes almost glassy, and it’s as though Gon doesn’t even need a telescope to see outer space. Seafoam bubbles around Gon’s feet, looking a luminescent blue-green as the water creeps up onto the sand. It kind of looks like the bubbles in the sink when he and Mito wash dishes.

He pauses in his stroll to watch the Whale Island Lighthouse whirl and it casts its brilliant light into seemingly nowhere. Its light runs across the stretch of beach in front of him. A glint catches his gaze, looking amiss amongst the shimmering mica in the sand. By a miracle, Gon saw it. His eyes easily could have brushed past it in the dark. The cool water comes up to touch him again as he digs his fingers in the sand and pries it free. 

It’s a glass bottle, one small enough that the surf had covered most of it with sand. There’s a classic cork that seals the lip of the bottle closed— like how they are illustrated in one of the children’s books Mito used to read to him over and over when he was a kid. Wiping some pesky grains of sand from his hand on his shorts, he twists the cork off with an audible pop, and pours the contents into his palm, dropping the bottle into the sand. He expects some sort of note or something, but instead, all that’s inside is a little pink scallop shell. He scrunches his nose, confused, and turns the little shell over and over between his fingers, the coolness of it soothing against the calluses formed from many years of weaving fishing nets. 

Gon continues walking. Periodically, he smiles fondly at the little thing, wondering why this shell was important enough to be sent to someone else through the fate of the ocean. The tide comes in too fast, slides over his toes, and sprays against his shins. If nothing else, the shell is charming. As the early morning stretches on, Gon wallows into a tide pool, and lies back on a rock adorned with barnacles. The shell is now warm in his hand. As the tide pool swirls lazily, the sound of the water moving lulls him to sleep upon the rock with the periwinkles.

It’s only a little while later that Gon twitches awake. A boy with eyes the color of an opaque, blue sea glass looks pale under the moonlight, his arm shiny with water outstretched for the shell Gon has held in his hand— even while he slept. His white hair is the color of the point where a wave crests and falls. It’s plastered to his wet face. Pearly eyelashes flutter his eyes open a little wider when the boy notices Gon has woke up. It’s only when the boy reacts does Gon see his fishlike tail, adorned with scales that shimmer with all colors of the rainbow. His fluke beats like a fish in shallow water in the tidepool, and the serene moment is cut short by the boy lunging for him, teeth sharp and gnashing towards Gon’s throat in a carnivorous growl.


	2. Chapter 2

He had heard lore about merpeople, fisherman usually told it over a drink at the bar. Gon never knew what to believe, until now. Gon has been cruelly thrust from his awe of the beautiful creature. His flukes are stronger than any fish Gon has reeled in. Claws like harpoons pry at Gon’s wrists to have him release the shell— which for whatever reason, he seems to be after. The boy rakes jagged cuts into Gon’s arms, and he cries out as dark blood begins to trickle off his elbows. At his yell, the boy stops his assault, for whatever reason, and instead locks eyes with him: although, he still bears his pointy teeth. Gon’s thoughts can’t form. The divide between the boy’s iris and the ocean blue of his eyes bears thin.

“Give it to me.” Something defiant in Gon arises at the order. His wrists are squeezed, but through the pain, he holds the shell tighter than ever.

“No.”

He expects to be maimed further, maybe killed. Instead, a desperation overcomes the boy’s face. It doesn’t last, though. Gon takes his chance. 

With both of his feet, Gon kicks the boy off of him. Caught off guard, the merboy flails and falls into the shallow water of the tidepool. Gon runs up the beach, holding his torn-up arms, the saltwater on his palms make his arms sting like hell. Pulse strong in his ears, Gon turns back, and  _ sees _ him: his expression is so… crestfallen. The way the ocean must feel on a moonless night.

Gon’s legs give out under him, and before he hits the sand, the boy has already dove back beneath the waves.

As the morning stretches on, his arms stop bleeding, but not his heart. Gon can’t think of anything else but the boy and that  _ look _ . He tries to busy his body instead of his mind: like gathering mussels that got stranded in the low tide. They’ll go great with his breakfast of fish left over from the night before. However, none of his tasks distract him from the sadness and hopelessness he saw on the boy with the fish tail.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he overcooks the mussels, and they turn out like tire rubber. It’s fine, though, it gives him something to mindlessly gnaw on. The fire crackles over the dry driftwood, and and salty smoke scatters the seagulls that come too close. 

It’s confusing why he feels guilty for not giving the boy the shell, and saving himself. He looks at the scallop shell under the scrutiny of the firelight. It looks ordinary. Pretty, but it’s nothing special.

Or maybe it is. Gon doesn’t know, either way. Mito tells him guilt is a powerful thing— and that’s why he wants to see the boy again. Maybe, it could have to do with the fact that the boy is fucking gorgeous, or maybe not. Gon’s face burns a bit. It’s simple-minded of him: guess being attacked by them doesn’t matter that much.

He puts out the fire and kicks the empty mussel shells beneath the sand. When he heads towards the waterline again, Gon can see the seagulls swoop for them in his peripheral vision. They’re not picky birds.

It is a strange day in July. He begins scouring the beach, looking for another glimpse of the creature that attacked him that morning. After a while with no luck, he picks up three stones, ones that had been smoothed out by the sea. Bored, and now frustrated, he throws with all his might, but the third stone comes skipping back. Gon stumbles. He must have imagined seeing that large fluke under the water. It twisted with rainbow colors as it volleyed the stone back to him.

There’s a shimmer beneath the waves. A face with eyes somehow bluer than the water crests the surface. Gon’s heart beats fast. From the sandspit, Gon catches his eye shyly. He sits so close to the water that the surf kisses his toes. Gon stretches his hand, the one holding the shell, out in his direction.  _ Maybe I do want to give this to you.  _ Rolling the shell between his fingers, all the angry gashes in Gon’s arms point to where he holds it. Hopefully he understands: Gon doesn’t want to ruin this with words.

_ Why do I want you to get closer, even when you tore me to shreds a few hours ago? _

The boy dives under the water, and Gon’s heart drops to the sand. Then, his heart leaps again when he sees he’s swimming  _ closer,  _ he’s not backing out. The current makes him look streamline and strong, his tail dazzling when it reflects rainbow light beneath the water.   
He’s the  _ prettiest _ catch Gon has ever seen.

The boy breaks the surface, and his lips part to take a gulp of air. Gon, who watches from the shore, swallows thickly.

He’s so close that the boy rests his elbows in the surf to hold up his head. The water is so  _ clear.  _ Gon can see the rippling, sinewy muscles in his upper body. It does strange things to his hormones. Gon’s mouth became as dry as the sand further up on the beach. His skin is a pearly color, like the belly of the shell he holds, long, light eyelashes with water droplets frame those incredible eyes… He rested his cheek on his elbow, and Gon finds himself looking at those lips. In his life, Gon has, for the most part, never dealt with lust, but this boy made something stir in him.

But it’s those  _ eyes  _ that he beckons to come to him.

Those  _ eyes _ send a shiver through him that feels like cold saltwater running down his back. The surf pulls back, and he lies glistening on the beach. He brings his tail up, so Gon can see the fin that fans beautifully on the end of it. Excess water trickles back into the ocean.

Gon holds the shell out to him, not registering what he’s doing, because he’s so transfixed on his beauty: and that gaze and those scales that shines like nothing he’s seen before. The boy stares at the shell, at Gon, and back again. His own arm, pale like the rubber of a beluga whale’s skin, reaches out to take the shell from him.    
Gon says it without thinking. “You’re beautiful.”   
The boy freezes, eyes widening, showing more of the ocean he holds within them. His cheeks become a coral pink.    
“I don’t know what you want with this shell. But I do know I want to know you.”   
  



	3. Chapter 3

“You shouldn’t want to know me.” The boy’s voice sounds like when waves crash against rocks. “Give me the shell.” His dangerously sharp nails jut out towards it. 

“I will. But I mean it,” Gon’s expression becomes warmer. “I want to be your friend.”   
“I don’t care.” 

The boy’s face says otherwise— and Gon notices. There is a twitch in his jaw that betrays him.

“I’ll be on the beach until tomorrow afternoon, I have plenty of fish to share...”  
“Fuck off, human,” the boy growls. Brief hurt flashes through Gon, he just wants to foster a friendship, but it doesn’t seem like he took it well. “Give it to me.” His eyes flash with hostility. The ocean within his eyes looks choppy and turbulent, like there is a storm brewing within him. 

“No,” Gon says finally. He must be someone who needs friends the most, if he acts like this to people who only want to be kind.

“No?” The waves crash over the boy’s fishlike form, seemingly angry as he is. Gon moves further up onto the sand, so he can’t reach him.

“I want to know about you, and until I do, you won’t be getting this shell.”

The boy’s frustration begins to brew and swirl like a raging whirlpool. He’s  _ desperate  _ to get that shell back into his possession again, and he doesn’t want to play a “game” to get it back. Annoyingly though, he doesn’t have a choice. Giving in to this human’s ploy is something he’d rather not have to do— but he’ll do  _ anything,  _ and that’s the part that frustrates him. 

Gon  _ sees  _ he’s mad. It’s easy to tell when those eyes have a way of drowning you when you’re still breathing. A question forms: why does he want this shell so desperately? 

Gon sucks in the salty air to clear his head. 

“What’s your name?” Gon pushes further. He watches with awe as the lagoons in the boy’s eyes flood twofold. His rainbow tail beautifully arches, and then sways this way and that as he visibly thinks about whether to tell him it or not.

“Killua,” he says finally, and Gon’s heart feels as though it’s a jellyfish, zapping his nerves and moving up in his chest. His name belongs to someone cruel, yet it has soft syllables. That fact is enough to make Gon believe he’s soft on the inside. Killua is probably just stand-offish when it comes to his true feelings. This small assumption is something to go on, something that makes him want to be Killua’s friend even more.

“I’m Gon,” he says, and then he smiles in a way that’s blinding to Killua, enough so that he feels like squinting. He narrows his eyes instead. Regardless of this, it feels like Killua’s blood has warmed, and it rushes to his cheeks.

“Okay,  _ Gon,”  _ Gon feels goosebumps come over him at the way his name sounds when Killua says it. “Now that we’re on a first-name basis, please give me the shell.”

“Nope,” Gon says, popping the “p.” When Killua beats his tail against the surf in frustration, Gon decides he likes being coy with Killua. He doesn’t know why, but hell— he could become addicted to giving him this kind of attention. “Not until I know  _ you.”  _

_ There it is, that weird feeling again.  _ Killua doesn’t want to deal with this right now; but there’s a nagging satisfaction he gets from chatting with Gon. He’s… warm. More so than anyone he’s met, except for maybe his sister. 

“Whatever,” Killua drawls, trying to still seem annoyed by him (his ego won’t let him openly admit he  _ kinda  _ wants to know Gon too.) At the realization, he grows pink again. “Looks like I have no other choice.”

Gon’s eyes grow soft. Yeah, he’s really excited to get to know Killua. There something about the way Killua looks when is he’s flustered that shows his true nature. Underneath the harsh guise he keeps up, there is someone that’s worth knowing: and Gon’s excited to see more. 

Gon nears the shore, and the tide rushes up on the sand to greet him. Confused, Killua’s tail waivers, sending a rainbow of colors that Gon instantly became taken by. The coloration of his scales are enticing, they entrance him. The water feels cool and welcoming, similar to how he feels about making a friend in Killua. 

“What are you doing?” Killua asks, noticing the way Gon’s looking at him. Now, there’s a more honeyed tone in his voice, one that Killua doesn’t realize he’s using. Gon doesn’t know if the water is suddenly becoming warmer, or if it’s him.

“Well, you can’t exactly come up onto the beach, so I might as well come to where you can be.” The sound of the waves rushing suddenly sounds louder in Gon’s ears, and it feel like his mind and heart are floating away on the sea. He doesn’t know what’s warmer— the sun on his back, or the way Killua’s looking at him right now. It’s a stark difference from how he was looking at him a few seconds before. 

To Killua, Gon is strange; nothing like he’s seen before. From he’s seen of humans, they are selfish and pollute his sea. Besides this, right away he sees that Gon isn’t like that: he wants to see Killua’s world. To think that he’s getting mushy like this… it’s weird to Killua. He thought it wasn’t in his character. To be honest, it frightens him a little. 

As Gon nears closer, Killua’s beauty becomes more and more heady, potent, deadly. There are flecks his eyes that looks like the bubbles when you’re nearing the ocean’s surface, and are starving for air. His skin seems smoothed out by the rough tides, and Gon gets the innocent desire to touch. Compared to Gon’s tan skin (from being out in the sun so much) Killua’s skin looks gorgeous to him. Yet, he knows he’ll be overstepping what they’d already fostered together— the beginning of the friendship that Gon has been waiting for. 

So instead, he stands there, unmoving, thinking of what to say next. For some reason, it’s a moment he never wants to forget. He could stay right here, let the rest of his life play out, and he wouldn’t be upset. It feels like everything is moving too fast, but Gon likes that. 

Killua watches him with eyes bluer than the ocean that he lies in, as Gon draws nearer to where he is. 

“This is part of getting to know you, right?” The water is up to his waist, until they are side-by-side. “The reef ‘round here is one of my favorite places to swim to.” Gon’s hormones rush faster than the waves around them. Killua’s white hair is plastered to his skin as pale is the underbelly of a conch shell. He wonders how it looks when it is dry. Is it waveless like the ocean at night time, or fluffy like how a seagull ruffles when is trying to catch a crab? 

When it comes to Killua, Gon has far too many questions. It‘s weird how Gon begins to move towards him. Killua doesn’t move, he doesn’t lunge at him like he did before. For a moment, it seems like the ocean swallows up time. Right now, it doesn’t matter. All that does is that they’re moving towards each other, and that things are beginning to develop. 

“What is it like to live in the water?” Gon asks. “What’s it like to look up at the surface of the water like it’s your sky?” Gon usually doesn’t speak like this; but this time, the words just _ formed  _ on his lips.Gon sinks down to his knees, so he’s eye-level with Killua. Seafoam gurgles around his thighs. 

_Our lives are so different._ _I want to know your life, and I want you to know mine._

His words don’t sink in, they’re like a bouy, not an anchor. Killua smiles a smile that he isn’t sure he’s ever worn. He looks into Gon’s otherworldly, brown eyes that he can’t find anywhere underwater— only here. Killua surprised by what he says in response.

“Me too.” He wants to know Gon: and that baffles him.


	4. Chapter 4

“I don’t think I can swim as well as you can,” says Gon, “but I’ll try to keep up.”  
Everything progresses in a whirlwind of something neither of them can keep up with. It all begins after Gon and Killua move further into the water, spurred on with this desire for understanding. It’s a scary feeling for Killua— wanting to get to know someone: and admitting it aloud.  
They spend the whole day beneath the waves, floating between the coral in the reef. Gon is usually enraptured by the gorgeousness of the coral and fish, but this time, it feels like he’s seen it a million times already, and all he wants to see now is Killua. Not once does he have to surface for air. His body twists and arcs in the water, tail and fins splayed beautifully and radiating color like he’s never seen before. Gon’s transfixed by his eyes: how they look underwater, surrounded by blue, and Killua’s hair— how it wafts— submerged and free-flowing....  
Either he doesn’t have enough oxygen, or it’s Killua that’s making his heart like this. How could someone who would just attacked Gon this morning turn into a possible friend?   
Already, it’s like the relationship that they have here is an underwater trench, and they have no idea what’s at the bottom. But they both want to find out what it is.   
The fish swim around Gon, as if saying hello, but they dart away at the sight of Killua (probably because they look like a snack to him) and Gon feels a mirth bubble up inside him. It feels bizarre to Gon, to be spending time with a creature like this.... And that he already considers them friends.  
On the other hand, it’s magical to watch the boy with the fish tail. He’s like a tightly coiled muscle, and slices through the water like he’s mid flight. Even though it feels strange, it also feels natural to spend time with Killua like this, even if they’re not talking, just peering into crevices between underwater rocks: just observing sea life.   
As for Killua, he doesn’t know what to think. While Killua was forced into this, well, he does want the shell back— but part of it’s Killua’s own say. For some reason, he caved and let Gon in (if only slightly.)  
There’s an immediate comfort between them that doesn’t make sense. As they surface, it’s midday now. The sun is high in the sky.   
“Killua, I bet you’re hungry.” Water droplets slide down Gon’s temples. “I have plenty of fish for the both of us.”  
Killua can feel his stomach cry out at the thought of food. Usually he would just hunt for his own lunch, but for some reason, he can’t stand the thought of killing Gon’s fish friends with him around. Might as well eat what’s already dead.   
What’s with me? Killua thinks. Hell if I usually care about feelings.  
“That sounds great.” Killua’s voice is quiet. Again, he’s questioning all of this. Maybe he keeps making these weird responses to things because he just needs to set his head straight. But even so, he just willingly spent a long period of time with Gon. Surely a “lot” on his mind isn’t an excuse for taking that route. What does all of this mean?   
Gon builds a fire right by one of the tidepools that stretches farther up onto the beach than the others. While Gon does that, Killua watches Gon prepare the meal through the flames that smell more like salt than smoke. His fingers are deft— the way he undoes fishnets and scales fish is soothing to mindlessly watch.   
Again, they don’t talk much— they spend most moments in silence. There’s somehow a (comfortable?) awkwardness in the air. Killua hates how quickly he’s warming up to Gon. Every part of his personality is bristling at the thought. It almost makes him want to lash out at Gon, for the sake of his ego. He hates that he’s been softened up by a simple fisherman, out of all people.  
Gon doesn’t bother to skin Killua’s fish. Instead, he puts stakes through them and cooks them slowly over the fire with the others. Killua’s glad— personally, he likes the crunch of the scales. Also, Killua’s never had fish cooked. His tail fans out, giving away his intrigue. Does the flesh get tougher? Sweeter?   
Gon, who has been secretly watching Killua, can tell he’s zoning out. He looks cute like that. Gon’s cheeks become a little ruddy at the sight of Killua’s glazed-over eyes: they look like the seaglass Gon used to collect for Mito. Once or twice, Killua snaps out of it enough to notice Gon’s staring. Each time, the fins on the sides of his head bristle, as if he’s the one who’s embarrassed.  
It’s a long time to wait, Killua realizes, pretty early on. Especially when a handsome guy is looking at you.  
He really just thought that, didn’t he.   
The brashest heat of the day is beginning to dwindle by the time the fish is cooked all the way through. Killua already knows it’s ready somehow, by the smell— even though he’s never cooked before in his life. It’s a different sort of smell when food is done cooking, somehow. He can’t think up an explanation for it.  
The sinewy muscles in Gon’s arm ripples as he pulls up one of the stakes. Killua knows it’s one of his, as it has scales and all. Once bluish, the scales look to be a toasty bronze, like Gon’s skin tone.  
Don’t you dare relate him to food, Killua, Killua mentally chastises himself. Gon isn’t something you can eat.  
The sunlight glints off of Gon’s abs, and Killua bites his tongue.  
Fuck!  
He knows that merman are hard-wired to want two things, sex and food, but Gon has no place in fulfilling the second desire. Killua swallows down his libido that says otherwise.   
Gon kneels down, and gives him a brilliant smile, gesturing the fish out to him. The sunlight pulls through again, and illuminates those melty brown eyes. No, Gon isn’t someone just for sex and food. That warmth that’s in him makes him more than that.   
Why Killua thinks so warmly of him so soon, Killua will never know. For once, he isn’t acting like a cold fish: maybe it’s because Gon’s unlike anyone he’s met before.   
Killua doesn’t remember grabbing the stake from Gon, but he comes back down from whatever thoughts he was having when he takes a bite.  
He knows what fish tastes like. Cooked fish, however, is all of those flavors, but stronger, and somehow softer. It melts in your mouth, and you don’t have to rip at it like Killua usually does.  
“Is it good?” Gon says, trying to read the reaction on Killua’s face.  
Killua is reluctant to give out a compliment so freely, but his mouth says it anyways. Curses. “It’s delicious.”  
For now, you fulfill me in the food department. Oh, but that means, would I want that, too?  
Killua decides he’s 100 percent fucked.


End file.
